


Good Neighbours, Bad Neighbours

by camwolfe



Series: The Water Can't Drown Me [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 04:18:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3596061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camwolfe/pseuds/camwolfe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Bucky get some new neighbours. It doesn't go well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Neighbours, Bad Neighbours

**Author's Note:**

> yo there is some talk of a minor knife wound/blood in this so please steer clear if that's a problem for you!

“Act cool,” Bucky said.

Steve rolled his eyes. “How am I supposed to act cool?”

“I dunno,” Bucky said. He was sprawled on their front lawn, Sergeant sitting beside him. “Don’t make it too obvious that we’re staring.”

“They’re busy,” Steve said. He shaded his eyes from the sun and took another look at their neighbour’s house. “I don’t think they’ll notice us.”

“If you just keep standing there they will.”

Steve sighed and went back to trying to set up the sprinkler. “Fine. You watch them and tell me what’s going on.”

Bucky propped himself up on his elbows, squinting over at the moving vans in their neighbour’s driveway. “Okay, that one guy still looks like he’s directing everyone around. Pretty sure that short lady is the wife. Oh, there’s a cat.”

“Great,” Steve said. “That’ll go over really well with Sergeant.”

Sergeant lifted his head and barked happily at the mention of his name.

“I think they’ve almost got everything moved in,” Bucky said. “Looks like the movers are heading out.”

“Do they look friendly?” Steve asked. He tried again to screw the hose onto the base of the sprinkler.

“I don’t know,” Bucky said. “How do I know if they’re friendly or not?”

“Well, are they ordering the movers around or are they being polite?”

“They kind of look like they’re ordering them around,” Bucky said. “The wife has her arms crossed.”

“Great.”

Bucky sighed dramatically and flopped back down onto the grass. “I can’t believe people are actually moving in next door. That place has been empty for years. Now we’ll never be able to have sex on the back deck _ever again.”_

Steve rolled his eyes. “Bucky, we’ve never done that.”

“And now we never will!”

“I think we’ll survive.”

“Nah,” Bucky said. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Steve asked, looking up from where he knelt over the sprinkler.

Bucky sat up. “I think they’re coming over here.”

“Shit,” Steve said. “Okay, try to make a good impression.”

Bucky frowned at him. “No, Steve, I was planning on making a bad one.”

Steve made a face at him, and then straightened up as footsteps came up their driveway.

“Hello!” the man said cheerfully. He was a little shorter than Steve, and rail thin. He had his arm around his wife, who still had her arms crossed.

“Hi,” Steve called back. Bucky rolled to his feet, Sergeant leaping up.

“We just moved in next door,” the man said. “Thought we’d come say hi!”

“Welcome to the neighbourhood,” Steve replied. “I’m Steve, and this is Bucky.”

Bucky smiled and waved.

“Nice to meet you both,” the man said cheerfully. “I’m Frank, and this is my wife Shelly.”

Shelly smiled thinly.

“I’m glad someone’s moved into that house,” Steve said. “It’s been on the market for a while.”

“Yup,” Frank said proudly. “Bought it for a good three million.”

Steve thought it was a strange thing to say, and he didn’t know how to respond. There was an awkward pause.

“Okay,” Steve said. Bucky snorted under his breath.

“So, are your parents home?” Frank asked Steve.

Steve sighed inwardly. “Uh, no. I actually own the house.”

“Oh!” Frank said. There was another awkward pause. Shelly’s scowl grew more prominent. “How’d you get the money to buy a place like that?”

Steve stared at him. Again, it was an uncomfortable question. “My mother bought it years ago.”

“Well, it looks like it could use some upkeep,” Shelly said. “We’ve got a good contractor. I’ll give you the number.”

“Excuse me?” Steve said indignantly.

Bucky moved forward to stand next to Steve, his arms crossed. Sergeant, who always picked up on Bucky’s moods, trotted over to press himself against Bucky’s knee.

“Oh, I didn’t mean anything by it,” Shelly said innocently. “I just noticed that some of the paint is chipping, and that the back deck looked a little old – “

“If I want your opinion of my house, I’ll ask,” Steve said coldly.

“We didn’t mean any offense,” Frank said hastily. He tightened his arm around his wife. “Shelly just likes the neighbourhood to look nice, that’s all.”

Well, Steve wanted his neighbourhood to be free of nasty people like them, but he figured he shouldn’t say that out loud.

“Well, we want our neighbourhood t- “ Bucky started to say, before Steve nudged him. Sergeant growled, his eyes fixed on Shelly.

“Is this your dog?” Shelly asked. Her voice was reedy. “He doesn’t bark, does he?”

Steve sighed.

“He’s a dog,” Bucky said sharply. “So yeah, he barks sometimes.”

“Hm,” Shelly said.

“We should probably get going,” Frank said quickly. “Got a lot of things to unpack. It was nice to meet you, boys.”

“Nice to meet you,” Steve said automatically. Bucky and Shelly didn’t say anything.

Frank and Shelly turned and walked back down the street towards their house. Steve and Bucky watched them go.

“I hate them,” Bucky said in a low voice. “Steve, I hate them _so much_.”

“Moving is stressful,” Steve said weakly. “They’re probably just stressed.”

Bucky groaned and went back into the house.

 

“Maybe that’s the end,” Bucky said desperately, a week later.

“It has to be,” Steve agreed.

The loud sound of bagpipes began again, and both Steve and Bucky groaned.

It was 3 AM on a Tuesday morning, and their new goddamn neighbour would not stop playing the bagpipes.

“Why did it have to be bagpipes,” Bucky moaned into his pillow. “Why couldn’t it have been the piano or something?”

“Why does he have to practice outside?” Steve asked, staring sadly at the roof. “Why does he have to practice at three in the morning?”

The music stopped for a moment, and they held their breath.

The loud blaring sound started again, and Bucky stifled a scream into his pillow.

They’d already tried shutting all the windows, but it was a hot night and their room instantly became unbearably stuffy. They didn’t have any earplugs, and it was too hard to breathe while pressing pillows over their heads.

“That’s it,” Steve said finally. He rolled out of bed, nearly stepping on Sergeant. “I’m going over there.”

“Steve, no,” Bucky said desperately. He was too tired to do more than raise his head from his pillow. “Come on, we already don’t get along with them. This’ll make it worse.”

“Bucky, you need to sleep!” Steve protested. “You have to get up for work in what, four hours? You’re supposed to get at least eight hours of sleep a night!”

“I know,” Bucky groaned. His face was already starting to turn the awful mix of white and grey that signified an oncoming headache. “Fine. But at least put a shirt on.”

Steve grabbed a random shirt from the laundry hamper and stormed downstairs. Sergeant jumped up and trotted after him, panting.

Steve stormed up the street, Sergeant walking patiently at his side. Steve had completely forgotten to even put on shoes, and his rage grew as he stepped on a multitude of small pebbles.

Their neighbourhood’s house had a large wrap-around porch that looked over the ocean. Steve stomped up the steps and walked around to the back of the house, to where Frank was standing with his bagpipes.

“Hey!” Steve said sharply as he rounded the corner.

Frank lowered the pipe from his lips. “Oh, hello!”

“Hi,” Steve said shortly. “Look, it’s three in the morning and your bagpipes are keeping us awake.”

“Oh,” Frank said again. He frowned. “Well, do you have headphones that you can put on?”

Steve stared at him and ran his hands through his hair. “Uh, no. We don’t.”

“Hm,” Frank said. “Well, maybe you two should get a pair! They’re great, my wife wears them all the time – “

“Or – “ Steve interrupted. “You could stop playing the bagpipes outside at night.”

“Well, I can’t practice inside,” Frank said with another frown. “Shelly doesn’t like it.”

“WE DON’T LIKE IT,” Steve shouted. He was so unbelievably tired.

Steve forced himself to take a deep breath. “Look, Bucky had a medical condition and needs to get a certain amount of sleep every night. I _need_ you to stop playing.”

Frank scowled. “The headphones – “

“I’ll call in a noise complaint,” Steve threatened. “I’ll do it.”

Frank’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” Steve said seriously.

Frank stared at Steve for a long moment. “Fine.”

“Thank you,” Steve said stiffly. He turned and walked back around the house, Sergeant at his heels.

“How’d it go?” Bucky asked when Steve walked back into the bedroom.

“Ugh,” Steve said. He collapsed face-first on the bed. “They’re so awful. Why are they so awful?”

Bucky sleepily patted Steve’s head, and then rolled over to go back to sleep.

 

It went on for weeks.

Steve came home after work one day to find Bucky storming around the house in a rage. Apparently Sergeant had been barking at a squirrel, and Shelly had yelled at him. Bucky had yelled back, and the fight had escalated from there.

Frank continued to play the bagpipes, albeit at slightly more reasonable hours. It drove both Steve and Bucky crazy.

One evening, Frank and Shelly hosted a party and let all of their friends park their cars on the street. There were so many of them that Steve and Bucky couldn’t get their own car down the street to their house. They ended up having to carry their grocery bags all the way down to their house, and their newly bought ice-cream melted in the heat.

Bucky’s siblings came over for the afternoon, and Shelly’s cat wandered over to their house. Rebecca knelt down to pet it, and the cat swiped at her arm with its claws. Rebecca ended up with several truly impressive gashes down her arm and a strong fear of cats. Shelly saw the whole thing happen, and proceeded to yell at Bucky for letting his sister touch her cat. Bucky, of course, retaliated. Steve ended up dragging a shouting Bucky back into the house while Bucky’s siblings watched with wide eyes.

 

One month and three weeks after Frank and Shelly moved in, Steve was making lunch in the kitchen.

Bucky was sprawled out on the couch in the living room, taking a nap. Sergeant stood next to Steve in the kitchen, watching his every move closely.

Steve didn’t even know how it happened. He was just chopping up tomatoes, and he turned to see if the pot of water on the stove was boiling.

When he looked back, the knife was embedded in his hand and upper wrist.

“Shit,” Steve said, more stunned than anything. It didn’t even really hurt.

He then made the mistake of pulling the knife _out._

“Shit,” Steve said again as blood started to gush out of his hand and wrist. “Fuck.”

Sergeant whined worriedly as Steve quickly held his hand out over the sink.

“Bucky?” Steve called. He couldn’t take his eyes off the blood now running down the drain.

“Bucky?” he said again when there was no reply.

“Wha’,” Bucky mumbled sleepily.

“BUCKY,” Steve shouted. There was a thud from the living room that sounded like Bucky falling off the couch.

“What?” Bucky asked as he stumbled into the kitchen. “Why are you yelling?”

“Um,” Steve said. “The tomatoes…”

“Wha – holy shit!” Bucky said as he finally saw why Steve had his arm over the sink.

“I was just chopping tomatoes,” Steve said.

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky said. “Jesus fucking Christ, how did you even do that?”

“I don’t know!”

Bucky grabbed a handful of dishtowels from a drawer and pressed them against Steve’s arm. Steve yelped and had to fight the urge to pull his hand back. It was really starting to hurt now, a sharp pain mixed with a deeper ache.

“Ow,” Steve said thoughtfully.

“Okay, okay,” Bucky said hurriedly. “I’m gonna go get the car keys, all right?”

“Why?” Steve asked. The blood was already starting to soak through the towels against his arm.

“Because you definitely need stitches,” Bucky said frantically.

Bucky grabbed more towels from the hall closet and then practically dragged Steve out to the driveway. Sergeant kept weaving around Steve’s legs, whining pitifully.

“But you don’t like driving,” Steve said as Bucky pulled the car door open.

“Yeah, but I like you bleeding out in the kitchen even less,” Bucky nearly shouted. He shoved the key into the ignition and turned it as Steve made his way around to the passenger’s seat.

The engine didn’t start.

“Are you kidding me,” Bucky muttered. “Come on, car, don’t do this to me.”

“Try again,” Steve said.

Nothing happened.

“Oh my god,” Bucky moaned.

“Bucky?” Steve said. “I’m just gonna… sit down…”

Steve abruptly sat down on the driveway. Sergeant licked his face.

“Shit,” Bucky said, getting out of the car and slamming the door. “Okay, I’m going to call Natasha or Clint – “

“They’re both at work,” Steve said. “They won’t pick up their phones.”

“I’ll call my mom – “

“She took your siblings to the city for the weekend.”

“Let’s just call an ambulance,” Bucky tried.

Steve frowned. “This isn’t ambulance worthy. Besides, that costs a lot of money.”

“Well you can’t just sit there!” Bucky protested.

“Excuse me,” a voice said from behind them. Steve looked up to see Shelly standing at the end of their driveway. Bucky groaned.

“Is everything okay?” Shelly asked.

“Yeah, Shelly, everything’s great,” Bucky snapped. “Steve’s just bleeding out on the driveway and our goddamn car won’t start. Everything is clearly wonderful.”

“I’m not bleeding out,” Steve mumbled.

“Do you need a ride to the hospital?” Shelly asked.

“No,” Bucky said immediately. “Wait, what?”

Shelly shrugged. “I’ll drive you.”

Bucky stared at her, then turned to look at Steve, and then looked back at her. “Really?”

“I’ll go get my keys,” Shelly said. She darted back to her house.

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” Steve said.

“Neither do I,” Bucky said.

 

Three minutes later, they were sitting in the back of Shelly’s Land Rover on the way to the hospital.

“I mean, I’m not complaining,” Bucky said as he pressed fresh towels against Steve’s arm. “But um… why did you volunteer to drive us?”

Shelly frowned at him in the rearview mirror. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Bucky stared. “Well, for starters, yesterday you pinned a note to our front door that ordered us to get our house painted before your party next week and then you threw an apple at my dog.”

Shelly sniffed. “It wasn’t an _order,_ it was a suggestion. And the dog was in my garden – “

“He wasn’t in your garden! He – “

“Guys,” Steve moaned. “Please.”

“Sorry,” Bucky and Shelly said at the same time.

“Yes, I would like you to get your house painted,” Shelly continued. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to sit on my porch and watch Steve get blood everywhere. Would you really think that of me?”

“Yes,” Bucky said. Steve kicked him.

They spent the rest of the drive in silence. When the car pulled up in front of the hospital, Steve shakily got out and Bucky scrambled behind him.

“Thanks for the ride,” Bucky said.

“Oh, I’ll wait until you two are done,” Shelly said. “I’ll take you home after.”

Bucky stared blankly at her. “Uh, thanks, I guess.”

“It’s fine,” Shelly said crisply. Bucky shut the door, and Shelly pulled into the parking lot.

“They are so weird,” Bucky said as he pushed Steve through the ER doors.

 

Sure enough, Shelly was waiting outside the hospital when Steve and Bucky walked out. She drove them right to their house without a single word of complaint.

“I don’t understand them,” Bucky said. He was cleaning up the mess that Steve had left in the kitchen.

“I don’t think they’re bad people, exactly,” Steve said from where he was buried under a stack of blankets in the living room. “Annoying, yes. And rude. But not cruel.”

“Hmm,” Bucky muttered. “Still. I don’t like them.”

“Even after today?”

“Even after today,” Bucky said. “Now drink your orange juice, you’re supposed to be getting fluids.”

“Ugh,” Steve said, but he did as he was told.

Bucky suddenly dropped what he was doing and plastered himself to the window on the side of the house. “Steve!”

“What?”

“Shelly is trying to cut down that tree at the end of our driveway!”

Steve groaned as Bucky ran out the front door.

**Author's Note:**

> please tell me your weird/awful neighbour stories I would love to hear them 
> 
> also, if you have any ideas of some things you would want to see happen in this little series of stories just let me know! you guys seem to still like these and I love writing them and I hope all of you enjoy it as much as I do
> 
> I am on tumblr[here](http://cameronwolfe.tumblr.com)!


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